The Parable of the Merciful Whores
What can be said about the merciful whores of Manila?
Did they truly exist or were they merely afterimages glimpsed by the wayward and the forlorn beneath the glare of streetlamps?
Some claim that their bodies were delicate enough to pass through walls and glide like whitecaps across pools of water. Their footsteps were impossibly light and silent. Mirrors have failed to hold their reflections and random sparks of lightning erupt wherever they tread.
The fragile nature of their beauty could not be contained by the memory of those who had seen them.
Men try to recall their features but what comes to mind instead are dancing shafts of light brighter than sunrises. To make love with them was like making love with the dawn and they asked for nothing in return except for tears of longing which they used to wash their hair.
An old fortuneteller once said that these fabled women transformed into small brown sparrows and rested in the bell tower of the Church of the Black Nazarene. This soon became an intolerable dilemma since the fragrance of their brilliant blue droppings inspired a state of euphoric intoxication among the devoted churchgoers.
Sacristans promptly began training dozens of black crows to feed upon the sudden infestation of the frail little birds.
On Sundays they were seen devouring their quarry above the rooftops of Manila. Blood began to fall like rain upon the streets for many days until the citizens begged the priests to end the slaughter. But the crows would not listen to their former masters and the deaths continued unceasingly.
At night, old women and children offer constant prayers to the pious Mary Magdalene for the eternal repose of the merciful whores.
But what powers or principalities in heaven will heed the request of a saintly prostitute in a city where women are killed like sparrows?
@ellowrites @ellodarkart @styxbones #surrealism #sirens #fantasy